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16. No such sumptuous funeral had ever been seen in the country as that which Madam Esmond Warrington ordained for her father, who would have been the first to smile at that pompous grief.

17. The little lads of Castlewood, almost smothered in black trains and hat-bands, headed the procession and were followed by my Lord Fairfax, from Greenway Court, by his Excellency the Governor of Virginia (with his coach), by the Randolphs, the Careys, the Harrisons, the Washingtons, and many others; for the whole country esteemed the departed gentleman, whose goodness, whose high talents, whose benevolence and unobtrusive urbanity, had earned for him the just respect of his neighbors.

18. When informed of the event, the family of Colonel Esmond's step-son, the Lord Castlewood of Hampshire in England, asked to be at the charges of the marble slab which recorded the names and virtues of his lordship's mother and her husband; and after due time of preparation, the monument was set up, exhibiting the arms and coronet of the Esmonds, supported by a little, chubby group of weeping cherubs, and reciting an epitaph which for once did not tell any falsehoods.

DEFINITIONS.-1. Păt-ri-mō'ni-al, inherited from ancestors. 6. Dis-af-feet'ed, discontented. 7. Ob-sẽ qui-oùs, compliant to excess. 12. Black'a-moor, a negro. 17. Ur-băn'i-ty, civility or courtesy of manners, refinement. 18. Ep'i-tǎph (pro. ěp ́i-tăf), an inscription on a monument, in honor or in memory of the dead.

NOTES.-2. Roundhead was the epithet applied to the Puritans by the Cavaliers in the time of Charles I. It arose from the practice among the Puritans of cropping their hair peculiarly.

3. Patriarchal. 5. Feudal. The Jewish patriarch, in olden times, and the head of a noble family in Europe, during the Middle Ages, when the "Feudal System," as it is called, existed, both held almost despotic sway, the one over his great number of descendants and relations, and the other over a vast body of sub

jects or retainers. Both patriarch and feudal lord were less restricted than the modern king, and the feudal lord especially lived in a state of great magnificence.

15. Proofs. When matter is to be printed, a rough impression of it is taken as soon as the type is set up, and sent to the editor or some other authority for correction. These first sheets are

called proofs.

His Excellency was the title applied to the governor.

VIII. MINOT'S LEDGE.

Fitz James O'Brien (b. 1829, d. 1862) was of Irish birth, and came to America in 1852. He has contributed a number of tales and poems to various periodicals, but his writings have never been collected in book form. Mr. O'Brien belonged to the New York Seventh Regiment, and died at Baltimore of a wound received in a cavalry skirmish.

1. LIKE spectral hounds across the sky,
The white clouds scud before the storm;
And naked in the howling night

The red-eyed light-house lifts its form.
The waves with slippery fingers clutch

The massive tower, and climb and fall,
And, muttering, growl with baffled rage
Their curses on the sturdy wall.

2. Up in the lonely tower he sits,

The keeper of the crimson light:
Silent and awe-struck does he hear
The imprecations of the night.
The white spray beats against the panes

Like some wet ghost that down the air
Is hunted by a troop of fiends,

And seeks a shelter anywhere.

3. He prays aloud, the lonely man, For every soul that night at sea,

But more than all for that brave boy Who used to gayly climb his knee,Young Charlie, with his chestnut hair, And hazel eyes, and laughing lip. "May Heaven look down," the old man cries, "Upon my son, and on his ship!"

4. While thus with pious heart he prays,
Far in the distance sounds a boom:
He pauses; and again there rings
That sullen thunder through the room.
A ship upon the shoals to-night!

She can not hold for one half-hour;
But clear the ropes and grappling-hooks,
And trust in the Almighty Power!

5. On the drenched gallery he stands,
Striving to pierce the solid night:
Across the sea the red eye throws

A steady crimson wake of light;
And, where it falls upon the waves,
He sees a human head float by,
With long drenched curls of chestnut hair,
And wild but fearless hazel eye.

6. Out with the hooks! One mighty fling!
Adown the wind the long rope curls.
Oh! will it catch? Ah, dread suspense!
While the wild ocean wilder whirls.
A steady pull; it tightens now:

Oh! his old heart will burst with joy,
As on the slippery rocks he pulls
The breathing body of his boy.

7. Still sweep the specters through the sky;
Still scud the clouds before the storm;
Still naked in the howling night

The red-eyed light-house lifts its form.
Without, the world is wild with rage;
Unkenneled demons are abroad;
But with the father and the son

Within, there is the peace of God.

NOTE.-Minot's Ledge (also called the "Cohasset Rocks") is a dangerous reef in Boston Harbor, eight miles south-east of Boston Light. It has a fixed light of its own, sixty-six feet high.

CIX. HAMLET.

William Shakespeare (b. 1564, d. 1616), by many regarded as the greatest poet the world has ever produced, was born at Stratford-uponAvon, England. He was married, when very young, to a woman eight years his senior, went to London, was joint proprietor of Blackfriar's Theater in 1589, wrote poems and plays, was an actor, accumulated some property, and retired to Stratford three or four years before his death. He was buried in Stratford church, where a monument has been erected to his memory. This is all that is known of him with any degree of certainty.

Shakespeare's works consist chiefly of plays and sonnets. They show a wonderful knowledge of human nature, expressed in language remarkable for its point and beauty.

(ACT I, SCENE II. HAMLET alone in a room of the castle. Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO.)

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Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?— Marcellus?

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Ham. I am very glad to see you. [To BER.] Good even, sir. But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.

Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so,

Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?

We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;
I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father! methinks I see my father.
Hor. Where, my lord?

Ham.

In my mind's eye, Horatio.
Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king.
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw? who?

Hor. My lord, the king your father.

Ham.

The king my father!

Hor. Season your admiration for a while
With an attent ear, till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham.

For God's love, let me hear.
Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead vast and middle of the night,

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